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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27145720">The Most Dangerous Game (alternate ending)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhysenne/pseuds/rhysenne'>rhysenne</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Most Dangerous Game - Richard Connell</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Author Is Sleep-Deprived, Gen, School Assignment, i wrote this at 3am</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 21:49:09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>965</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27145720</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhysenne/pseuds/rhysenne</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>School assignment to write an alternate ending. Picks up right after the hunt begins. Wrote this at 3am the day after it was due. (Unfortunately, I couldn't make this into an actual ship fic, since I was turning it in to the teacher.)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Sanger Rainsford &amp; Zaroff</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Most Dangerous Game (alternate ending)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/flowersoffleshandblood/gifts">flowersoffleshandblood</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Rainsford ran, faster than he’d ever run before in his life. He couldn’t shake the feeling that Zaroff was right behind him, ready to snap him up in his jaws the moment he missed a step. Resisting the urge to look over his shoulder, Rainsford ran even faster. <em>Three days</em>, he repeated to himself, over and over as the reality of his situation crashed down on him. <em>Three days, three days, three days and then you’re free—just three more days...</em></p><p>Come nightfall, Rainsford had stopped panicking—mostly—and had begun to make a plan. He deftly laid a false trail and quietly snuck off in another direction. Zaroff still hadn't found him yet. He was about to settle down when he heard the telltale sound of footsteps.</p><p>His heart sped up. Rainsford felt a sudden urge to get up, to flee. Then he reined in that instinct—no matter how desperate he might be at the moment, he would always be a civilized human being, a trained hunter, and better than a wild animal. <em>Perhaps he still had a chance. Perhaps Zaroff’s eyes would miss him, hidden as he was in the shadows.</em></p><p>Rainsford glanced up. The general was nowhere to be seen.</p><p>
  <em>Where—<em></em></em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He froze as he heard the click of a gun directly behind him. Slowly, he turned around to find a small automatic pistol pointed at his face. <em>How—<em>he hadn't even heard him move!</em></em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>"So the game's over now, isn't it?" Rainsford said. His voice was surprisingly calm and steady, given the threat of imminent death currently making his eyes cross. “But you still lose. You’ve always lost, no matter how many times you think you’ve won. None of this matters, because you’ve lost the biggest battle of them all, the only one that mattered.”</em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>“Oh? <em>I</em> lost? How, pray tell?”</em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>Rainsford smiled, the bittersweet smile of a man condemned who knows he is in the right, but will still die anyways. “You memorize French operas and eat food that costs more than most men make in a year and wear pretty clothes from a London tailor that sews for none below the rank of duke—don’t think I didn’t catch that—but underneath all that you’re no more than a petty thief, a <em>beggar</em>. Your life would be utterly meaningless if you couldn’t rely on others to provide the only source of amusement he could find. Your <em>strength</em> means nothing if you use only it to kill other humans. I hope you regret it. I hope you regret everything. You’ve proven <em>nothing</em> but the fact that you’re like all the rest of them at heart: a stupid, wild beast, a <em>savage</em>. But civilization always wins over the savages.” And he somehow summoned the courage to spit on the general’s perfectly polished leather boots.</em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>Instead of looking offended, Zaroff <em>laughed</em>. He laughed and laughed and laughed until his entire body was quaking, and yet he still managed to keep his weapon trained at Rainsford’s head. Rainsford felt a sick sense of revulsion. What kind of man could laugh like that when he had a gun pointed at another man’s head?</em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>“A wild beast, you say? <em>I’ll</em> show you who’s a beast.” Rainsford frowned, confused—and <em>why wasn’t Zaroff killing him already?</em> He felt a slow, sick sense of dread beginning to creep up on him, just like he’d had when the general first announced their little game, but this time much, much worse. </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>“It was certainly… <em>interesting</em>… to play against you, to say the least. I’ll admit you’re cleverer than any other prey I’ve hunted so far. But you fell victim to the same mistake you humans all do. You’re not willing to do what it takes.” He stepped forward, moving the muzzle of his pistol until it was pressed against Rainsford’s face. “You see, you could have set any number of traps for my inevitable arrival, but you didn’t. You were far too concerned with saving your own skin. But you’ll learn quickly, I hope.”</em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>“W-w-what—what do you mean?”</em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>"Oh, my poor, dear Sanger, you thought we were <em>done</em>?” The general’s resounding chuckle sent chills down Rainsford's spine. “You don’t really think I <em>wanted</em> to kill you, did you? I've never had so much fun in my life! No, Mr. Rainsford. This was only the first round.” Slowly, he lowered the weapon. “I’ve made the necessary arrangements already. You’ll return to your room tonight. Ivan has been instructed to restrain you if you are foolish enough to attempt an escape. You’ll come out to play whenever I choose. And for every time you lose—well, Ivan has his whip. I <em>will</em> shoot you if you don’t cooperate—though I'd rather not, of course. But I’m quite sure you will. Negotiation, mutual cooperation—<em>civilization</em>, is it not?”</em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>Rainsford tried and failed to stop himself from trembling as his resolve crumbled. No, he wouldn’t get the last word, because—</em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>“Because you see, Mr. Rainsford…” Slowly, the general trailed the muzzle of the gun from Rainsford’s forehead down to his chest, right over his miraculously still-beating heart. “I. <em>Always.</em> Win.” Zaroff smiled his peculiar little smile, blood-red lips barely concealing knife-sharp teeth, as he lowered the gun. </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>Instead of relief, Rainsford felt a sudden surge of terror. He finally dared to glance up directly at the man’s face—no, Zaroff was no man. In his eyes, Rainsford saw not a human, nor a wild animal, but a <em>demon</em>—one who had only come to this world because tormenting the damned in Hell had become boring. He shook as all his walls crumbled and fell apart, as his mind began to comprehend the horrors in store for him. A new game had begun. </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>He had never slept in a more uncomfortable bed.</em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
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